The Gotham Devil
by Blacklight 88
Summary: A grim and morbid retelling of the origin of Batman.
1. Batman Begins

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of his villains or supporting characters, I do however, own Marshall Montague

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of his villains or supporting characters, I do however, own Marshall Montague. Anyway I just hope the story is enjoyable.

For the first time since he was sixteen years old Bruce Wayne walked the streets of Gotham City. The city had not changed much since then. Some new modern skyscrapers and high rise buildings had been erected but most of the same gothic architecture that constituted the cities original construction still stood tall like some kind of medieval colossus.

Bruce, incognito at the moment wearing old faded jeans, a black leather jacket and sunglasses, walked down the familiar streets with a purpose. He was gathering intel on the enemy. Bruce had been back in Gotham for less than a day. The only people aware of his return being his faithful and trusted butler Alfred Pennyworth and the caretaker of his family's billion dollar company Lucius Fox.

Bruce had left Gotham at the age of 16 distraught, confused and searching for a purpose. Ever since the night his parents were mugged and gunned down before his very eyes in Gotham City's Park Row a.k.a. Crime Ally. That night as Bruce looked on in horror his parents were snatched away from him. It took less than five seconds but that was all that was needed for Bruce's life to shatter into a million pieces, forever.

In the years that followed Bruce wallowed in self-induced guilt over his inability to prevent his parent's murder. Bruce continued on this way until the age of 16 whereupon he began to see a therapist by the name of Leslie Thompkins. Bruce was drowning in despair and it was Leslie who reached out a hand and pulled him out of his depression. She suggested that Bruce travel abroad. That he leave Gotham for a while so that he wouldn't be constantly be reminded of his parent's, because Thomas and Martha Wayne in many ways, were in fact Gotham City. They had tried to the best of their ability to return the city to its former glory before the abysmal, corrosive tentacles of organized crime had wrapped their slimy grip around the city.

These efforts however were in vain.

Gotham city was so indoctrinated to the whims of organized crime no amount of philanthropy or good will could save it.

So with a heavy heart Bruce entrusted his family's company to his father's trusted friend Lucius Fox and his stocks and family estate to Alfred and set off on a journey to try and discover the peace of mind and the purpose that so deftly eluded him.

"_That was so long ago, It almost seems like a dream…."_

Bruce walked through the large revolving door of the building in front of him. The building, Wayne Tower, was for all intents and purposes the center of Gotham City and the headquarters of the Wayne Enterprises empire.

Bruce walked casually but briskly up to the busy receptionist at the front desk. The receptionist although besieged with dozens of phone calls handled it with a calm and patience that could only be the result out of long hours of experience. Bruce waited patiently for her to finish handling the calls before speaking.

"I have a one o' clock with Mr. Fox. The name is Malone."

The receptionist turned towards her computer and a moment later turned back to the tall, dark haired, man in the casual clothes "Yes Mister Malone. Mr. Fox is expecting you on the top floor in the conference room."

Bruce thanked her politely before turning on his heel toward the elevator. Bruce had used the Malone alias so as not to draw attention to himself although the receptionist must have been wondering why someone so "casually" dressed was going to meet with CEO Lucius Fox.

Bruce stepped into the elevator, pressed the button for the top floor and moments later was whisked away skywards. Five minutes later Bruce was stepping into the conference room at the top of Wayne Tower and clasping hands with Lucius Fox.

Lucius made sure the door was shut firmly before speaking "You've been away a long while you not that don't you Bruce?"

"Well Lucius I had a lot of thinking to do and a lot of pretty girls to meet before I came back to Gotham."

"Well I'm assuming you met the girls before you did the thinking. If I remember correctly that was always more your style." The older man chided.

Bruce shot Lucius a false glare "Regardless of the order the two things happened in I'm back and I've made some decisions about what I want to do with my life."

"Really and what would those decisions be Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce looked at Lucius in his dark eyes for a moment "I want to live life to the fullest. My parents deaths and my time abroad has taught me that life is to short so I'm going to live in the moment. I want thrills Luscious! I want to drive fast cars, date faster women! Jump into shark infested waters! Do you see what I'm saying Lucius?"

Lucius looked back into Bruce's eyes although hidden by his dark, tinted glasses Lucius knew them to be a startlingly intense blue color "I believe I do Mr. Wayne but tell me, what exactly does this have to do with me?"

A smile spread across Bruce's face "Well Lucius I was hoping that given your vast knowledge of all the products that Wayne Enterprises produces, could help me pick out some gear that might be useful for my endeavors."

A smile spread across Fox's face to match Bruce's "So what you basically want me to do is help you pick out your toys."

"In a manner of speaking….yes."

Fox gazed at Bruce for several moments with a stony look before it was broken by a smile "Very well Mr. Wayne meet me at our storage building downtown tomorrow at three and I'll help you pick up some of our shelved projects for you to use."

"Thank you Mr. Fox. Believe me it will be graciously appreciated."

"No need to thank me Mr. Wayne you are my boss after all."

Bruce turned and smiled at Luscious "Touché Mr. Fox, Touché."

Bruce then opened the door to the conference room and walked back towards the elevator leaving Lucius alone in the room.

A large smile spread across Lucius weathered face as a thought that he had been entertaining since he saw Bruce sprang from his lips "He looks just like Thomas," Lucius sat down in one of the comfortable chairs arranged around the conference table a speculative look appearing on his face "Something also tells me that like Thomas Bruce is also going to do great things.

The large expanse of caves beneath Wayne Manor were cool and refreshing to Bruce as he rode the old fashioned elevator, used by his ancestors as part of the underground railroad, to the cave floor where at this very moment he could see Alfred setting up tables and lining them with the different and varied equipment he would need for his "new endeavor".

When Bruce reached the cave floor he called out to Alfred "How goes it?"

Alfred turned to face Bruce replying in his perfect English voice "Perfect Master Bruce. I've set up all the tables and hooked all the lights and electronics up to the generators. How did the meeting with Lucius go?"

"He's taking me tomorrow at three to one of the companies local storage facilities. He's going to show me around and help me pick out what I'll need for my extreme new lifestyle."

"So you've decided not to completely include him in what your actually going to be doing?"

Bruce turned away from a table, where a state-of-the-art computer had been set up, back to Alfred "I'm sure Lucius is going to assume based on what I'm looking for that I'm up to more than is apparent. Before its all over with he will definitely figure it out. But Luscious is the kind of guy who in this situation would probably like to remain ignorant of my true intentions that way if anyone asks him what I'm up to he won't have to lie."

Alfred nodded his head "Your right of course Sir."

"Now Alfred if you don't mind," Bruce started turning his attention to a still darkened area of the cave "Let's bring a little bit more light to this section of the cave."

"Of course sir." Alfred replied picking up the necessary equipment and following Bruce to the spot he had indicated.

Bruce arrived at the storage building the following afternoon, once again in disguise, driving a large eighteen-wheeler truck. Bruce parked the truck in the rear wear cargo was loaded and offloaded and then jogged back around to the front of the building where he saw Lucius car parked.

Bruce walked up to the door of the building and upon discovering it was unlocked, let himself in.

The first thing that Bruce noticed was Lucius leaning against a car shaped object covered by a gray tarp.

Lucius upon seeing Bruce threw his hand up in greeting "Good afternoon Mr. Wayne. When I saw that truck pull up I didn't think it was you."

"Just thought I'd bring a little something to put my "toys", as you like to call them, in." Bruce walked up to where Luscious was standing "So Mr. Fox what do you have for me?"

Lucius smiled at the young man "Well yesterday when I heard you mention fast cars the first thing that came to my mind was this." Lucius gestured to the tarp-covered object before grabbing one the tarps edges and pulling it off revealing the marvel of modern technology beneath.

What Bruce saw was more than a car it was art. It had a sleek streamlined appearance that was reminiscent of a bird of prey and it was painted in the white color WayneMotors paints all of its prototype vehicles. The car looked like what Bruce was something for, something that was fast but something that he could add some muscle to.

"This is the Falcon," Lucius said, excitement creeping into his voice, "This car doesn't have a limiter built into it yet so its max speed is 650 mph-."

"650 mph!" Bruce exclaimed, "No small wonder the things called Falcon!"

Lucius sported a pleased look on his face "Exactly. But that's not the only thing that makes this little puppy special, its got advanced Endurance tires, which are resistant to anything you can think of except maybe a rocket launcher or flamethrower. In addition to that, the outside of the car is built out of the same material they use on main battle tanks to give it durability and its engine runs on a highly efficient ethanol based fuel source. All these things together make it a terrible idea for mass production. So what do you think?" For the first time in several minutes Lucius stopped to take a breath.

Bruce managed to shake off his amazement to say "Does it come in black."

"I thought you'd like it. Now what else are you interested in Mr. Wayne?"

Bruce gazed at the floor for a moment a thoughtful look on his face before he replied "I'm looking for something durable to wear Lucius. Something that can withstand oh say gunfire if it had to."

Suddenly a suspicious look came over Lucius face and he shot Bruce a quizzical look "What Mr. Wayne could you possibly be doing that involves gunfire?"

Bruce stared deep into the older mans eyes his blue ones locking with Luscious brown "Listien Lucius if the nature of the items I'm looking for troubles you then you don't have-."

"Mr. Wayne." Lucius cut him off "This is pretty much all yours anyway," He made a sweeping gesture to the rows and stacks of shelved technology "So your free to do with it as you see fit. All I ask Mr. Wayne is that you don't think of me as "slow" as your generation calls it."

Bruce couldn't but to chuckle at Lucius' attempt at humor "Sure Lucius. It will be as you say and just for the record I've never thought of you as slow."

"Good." Lucius replied in a false haughty manner with a dignified look on his face "Now Mr. Wayne back to your search I think I may have just what you're looking for."

Walking with a purpose, Lucius lead Bruce over to the middle of the room where a long stainless steel case was laying on top of two large crates.

"This Mr. Wayne" Lucius paused to unsnap the locks on the case and then open it up "Is the WayneTech ST-05N "Nosferatu" stealth and infiltration armor."

Bruce saw the armor was colored a combination of black and gunmetal and looked like it had storage compartments built into its forearms and thighs.

"The Nosferatu is electrically insulated and can stand all forms of small arms fire and can even withstand small limited bursts of fire from a submachine gun. It has internalized heat-dampening systems that can reduce your body heat on thermal scanners to practically nothing and the armor is strong enough to snap most knife blades in half. Oh and there are internalized storage compartments in the thighs and forearms for storage purposes." Lucius finished listing the Nosferatu's features and looked to Bruce for an indication of whether or not the suit was to his liking.

"Perfect Lucius we'll pick it up on the way back. Now about the next couple of things…."

Bruce stared at his reflection in the polished armored exterior of the Nosferatu. In addition to his reflection he could see Alfred installing the bulletproof glass in the Falcon, Stalactites hanging down from the cave ceiling like the great teeth of a dragon and foremost of all a colony of bats nesting above him around the "dragons teeth".

Bruce had just finished installing a reinforced Kevlar plate over the chest of the Nosferatu and was preparing to paint the Nosferatu in the black color that he desired when Alfred approached him from behind.

"Sir if you don't mind my asking why did you select that as your symbol?" Alfred pointed towards the effigy of the bat the Bruce had welded onto the Kevlar plate.

Bruce stared thoughtfully at the bat on the Nosferatu's chest before replying to Alfred "Because the people I'm fighting against, mobsters, serial killers, rapists, pedophiles, sadists, are all by nature a cowardly and superstitious lot. The bat is a creature of the night. Something that has terrified people for centuries and that terror is something that I'm going to harness as a weapon against my enemies."

"Makes since Sir. Fear is something that is not easily countered. Just make sure that someone else doesn't take the leaf out of your book and try and scare you." Alfred gave Bruce a friendly pat on the back "As for me I'm going to go and install the radio system into your cowl and load those….what are those little shuriken things of yours called again sir?"

"Batarangs Alfred." Bruce replied as though they had been over the name a thousand times already.

"Right batarangs Sir. I'm going to go put those in the utility belt that Luscious gave you." Alfred then strode off to an adjacent table were the belt and cowl were laying.

Turning away from Alfred Bruce began to baptize the Nosferatu with his can of black spray paint. Starting with the effigy of the bat.

Marshall Montague has been ruling the underworld of Gotham City from his seat of power since he became 30 years old. That was 29 years ago. Now Montague has 80 of the police force including the commissioner on his payroll along with several high-ranking city officials and a handful of judges. Montague is for lack of a better phrasing "untouchable".

Montague floods Gotham City with drugs, prostitution, gambling, extortion and even murder. If someone were to compare Gotham City to Hell then Marshall Montague would be the devil.

Recently Montague's drug profits have soared. He has procured a new kind of drug called "toxin" from the small island nation of Santa Prisca, located off the coast of Brazil, which is extremely popular with the druggies of Gotham. Not only does it give them that feel-good sensation all druggies want but it is unimaginably addictive. So customers are always guaranteed to come back and buy more of the high-priced narcotic.

Tonight Montague is bringing in a shipment of toxin at the Gotham city docks. From there it will be shipped all over Gotham to Montague's innumerable amounts of dealers.

"_Of course that's what would normally happen. But that will not be happening tonight."_ Bruce stood amongst the shadows of a group of stacked crates, sizing up his foes. All together there were twelve of them, most armed with only a nine mm handgun. Two sported smgs (submachine guns) and one even carried a shotgun _"No problem"_.

Bruce also noticed that the three thugs with the bigger guns seemed to be the ones in charge in addition to the ones with the smgs patrolling the area. The ones with the smaller guns just seemed to be focused on loading the toxin into trucks for transportation.

"_Targets acquired."_

Bruce Strategically picked out the smg carrier who moved closest away from the group and stalked him from the shadows.

Waiting till the man had gone far enough away from the group so that they wouldn't hear anything Bruce withdrew a small bat-shaped object from his belt and took aim. A moment later the batarang slammed into the back of the man's skull….he lost consciousness before he hit the ground.

Bruce quickly dragged the man behind some crates and restrained him so that he wouldn't be a factor later on.

"_I was wrong,"_ He mused to himself _"This will be even easier than I originally thought."_

Trevor "Big Dog" Perkins watched over the men loading Montague's crates like a hawk.

Trevor worked as hired muscle for all of Gotham's big crime syndicates, particularly the Montague family. They paid the most and more often than not it was an easy job.

"_Yep I'll be collecting my money and be on my way back home before I know it."_

Trevor's thoughts were interrupted by a clattering noise coming from the center of where the loading team was working. Walking over to the loaders he pushed his way through to see what had produced the sound.

Lying in the middle of the crowd of loaders were five black spheres each with a blinking red light.

Long experience as a hired goon told Trevor what they were immediately.

"Nerve gas! Everyone get back!"

Trevor's Warning came to late.

As soon as Trevor spoke clouds of green fog began to secrete from the ominous black spheres. Within moments six men were on the ground coughing and slipping into unconsciousness.

Trevor managed to get out of the way along with two of the other loaders.

"Dog you guys alright!?" Trevor heard Steve, the last remaining man carrying an smg, call out."

"I am but whoever threw that nerve gas won't be when I get a hold of em!" Trevor answered, cocking his pump-action shotgun for emphasis.

Then Trevor saw it. It slipped up behind one of the two remaining loaders like a wraith. It looked like some sort of demon. Devil-like horns rose from its head and what looked to be long black wings hung behind the beast's back.

Before Trevor could even call out a warning the man was put in a sleeper hold and dragged off into the shadows given off by the city of crates around them.

Trevor stood frozen in place for a moment before recovering and ordering Steve and the last loader to fire into the crates.

Steve's smg spewed a torrent of bullets into the crates shredding through the stacks of crates like a hot knife through butter. Two minutes later Steve's smg clicked informing him it was out of ammunition.

Trevor, Steve, and the loader stared at the broken, splintered, mess the crates had been transmuted into by the sustained gunfire. Nothing moved.

"There you have it gentleman!," Steve exclaimed, turning to face his two remaining comrades "Were gonna get a bonus for this!"

As soon as Steve finished speaking something shot out of the rubble and entangled itself around his feet.

The cord that ensnared Steve was jerked violently pulling Steve to the ground, his smg falling out of his hand in the process. Then with great speed the cord retracted back towards the ruined crates, pulling Steve along with it.

All traces of the cocky attitude Steve displayed a moment before vanished as he was pulled kicking and screaming into the crates he had destroyed.

Trevor and the loader looked on in horrified wonder at the spectacle. Trevor himself, for the first time in a long time, began to feel the cold, merciless touches of fear and dread.

Once he had disappeared into the crates he let out one last cry before his voice was silenced "For the love of god don't hurt me!"

Two seconds later five gray spheres were hurled from the debris and upon contact with the ground began to spray out banks of gray smoke.

The panicked voice of the loader snapped Trevor back to reality "To hell with this man! I'm outta here!"

Trevor watched as he ran off through the smoke, knowing what the result would be.

Trevor saw it before the loader did. The grim, wraith-like shadow moving along the darkened walls slowly gaining on the panicked man then they disappeared in the smoke and Trevor saw them no more.

A moment later Trevor heard the loaders voice cry out "Fuck you!" Then several gunshots rang out and all was quite again.

Trevor held his shotgun in a death grip. Fear gnawing away at him from the inside while the unnerving silence attacked him from the outside.

Then he heard it. Footsteps. They were coming towards him. A candle of hope lit itself inside Trevor Perkins. Maybe the loader had shot the creature. Maybe the loader had killed it and was coming back to tell him.

The dark menacing silhouette Trevor saw coming towards him through the smoke quickly extinguished Trevor's candle.

Trevor brought up his shotgun. Empowered by the adrenaline bestowed upon someone by fear and aimed at the creature, "Burn in hell freak!"

A cloud of pellets ripped from the muzzle of Trevor's shotgun and impacted dead center in the creature's chest. It paused for a moment, the shell seemingly stopping it in its tracks. The creature then started to slide to its left and melded into the shadows provided to it by the crates.

"Gotcha now yah son of a bitch! I'm gonna enjoy killin you nice and slow!" Trevor menaced as he approached the shadows beside the crates.

Three bat shaped objects flew out of the gloom. Two slammed into Trevor's wrist and the third hit his shotgun. Trevor's hand released the weapon and it flew off into the dark.

Trevor clutched his wounded arm. It throbbed with pain. Now without his shotgun Trevor was defenseless.

Trevor stared at the shadow's he had moments ago been bravely approaching, waiting to see if his worst fears would come true.

They did.

The demonic figure seemingly materialized out of the dark, moving inexorably towards the fallen goon.

Trevor moved backwards until he felt his back connect with a stack of crates. He was cornered.

The creature picked Trevor up by his collar and lifted him up to eye level. Trevor's eyes bulged with fear and his entire body trembled. This seemed to make the creature smile.

"Do you know who I am?" It growled at Trevor.

Trevor wet himself "No." Was all he managed to choke out.

"I am Batman," It growled in that same way that would have reminded someone of a lion or a tiger "Tell your boss Montague I'm coming for him!"

Tears began to well up in Trevor's eyes and roll down his cheeks. The Batman pulled back his right fist.

The last things Trevor did before the fist slammed into his face like a wrecking ball were letting out a pathetic child like whimper and soiling himself.

When the Gotham City PD arrived at the scene an hour later they found all twelve men tied up in a circle. Each holding a package filled with toxin. The rest of the toxin had been placed around them and set ablaze.

The toxin was arranged in the shape of a giant bat.

Authors Notes: Sorry if this chapter was king of slow at the beginning but I promise it will get better. I will keep updates coming as soon as I can right them.

Blacklight


	2. The Enemy of my Enemy

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of his villains or supporting characters, I do however, I do own Marshall Montague

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of his villains or supporting characters, however, I do own Marshall Montague and Alex Gibson. Anyway I just hope the story is enjoyable.

Marshall Montague overlooked the Gotham skyline from his penthouse apartment. Occasionally his keen, emerald eyes would disdainfully gaze down at the multitudes of people below as if they were no more than ants.

Montague liked to entertain the idea that he was greater than the common man. Something that was greatly reflected by how he treated all but the highest of officers in his organization. The face of the Montague organization being Montague Shipping, an internationally known shipping company that imports and exports goods all over the world. Secretly, however, he was engaged in every kind of crime that happened in Gotham City, which pretty much means every kind of crime known to man, especially trafficking illegal drugs.

"Mr. Montague sir." Marshall was snapped out of his reverie by the voice of his most trusted confidant, Alex "Dead Eyes" Gibson, one of the most ruthless and feared men in Gotham.

"What is it Alex?" Montague lazily turned to face his advisor.

"There was an issue with the latest shipment of toxin." Gibson replied, in his usual cool manner.

Montague raised his eyebrows. Marshall Montague didn't have problems. Everyone in Gotham knew better than to cross him…. well apparently not everybody. But they soon would.

"What happened?" Montague tried his hardest to minimize the shocked expression on his face as the words escaped his lips.

"The men were attacked. All of them are in police custody and are being prosecuted for possession with intent to traffick."

"Do you think any of them will try and link me with it?" Montague already knew the answer he just wanted to hear Alex say it.

"They know better." Alex replied in his usual blunt manner.

Montague nodded, satisfied, and sat down in his desk chair "Now, tell me more. For starters what do you mean, "attacked"?"

Gibson paused before answering. Marshall noticed because it was something that Gibson never did. Alex was a very straightforward and blunt person, so him pausing before answering meant that something very strange was going on.

"The men said they were attacked by some kind of demon…. a kind of…. bat creature."

"_It was no wonder he paused before speaking,"_ Montague thought to himself _"that sounds absolutely ludicrous." _

"They said that the creature took them down one at a time at first…. and then used some sort of nerve gas. Hawkins was the last one to go down. He said the thing took a direct hit in its gut and it still didn't stop…. he also said something to Hawkins sir." Gibson stopped for a moment, gathering strength for what he knew he was going to have to tell his boss.

"Go on." Montague waved his hand to signal that Gibson should continue.

Gibson took a breath "The creature told Hawkins it was Batman," Gibson paused before finishing "and that he was coming for you." Gibson pointed at Montague to illustrate the point.

Montague was suddenly furious "He said what! Does he know who I am! Marshall Montague runs Gotham City! No one can touch me here! Nobody! And that includes this "Batman"!

Alex watched with his dead, shark-like eyes as his employer stormed around his office ranting and raving as if the Batman had slapped him or spit in his face with his words.

After waiting for Montague to calm down, Gibson addressed him with his returned icy demeanor "What would you have me do sir?"

Montague cocked his head towards Alex, the anger that had contorted his face into the face of a snarling wolf slowly fading away "I want you to talk to Loeb first thing in the morning and tell him to get his fat ass in gear," The anger had left his face, Alex noted, but Montague's voice oozed malice "Tell him he has two days and if I don't have the Batman's head then I'll take his as compensation."

"Yes sir." The frigid voice replied to the scorching one.

Gibson turned to leave. He had no idea who or what this Batman was, but Gibson was sure that if he personally were capable of feeling pity for someone, right now it would be the Batman.

Lt. Jim Gordon shambled through the front door of the shabby apartment he shared with his wife Barbara and newborn son James Jr.

He had left home at nine o'clock this morning. It was now two in the morning.

There had been some kind of major drug bust down at the docks and Gordon was volunteered to stay late and help with booking and getting statements from the motley assortment of thugs that had been brought in.

Gordon rubbed his temple to try and assuage the monstrous headache he had been nurturing since being told he would have to stay late right as he was preparing to leave.

"Sometimes I wonder why I just don't sleep at the office." He commented to himself with a sigh.

Gordon hung his overcoat on the coat rack, deposited his brief case on the couch and turned to go to his bedroom.

He didn't make it.

A powerful hand shot out of the darkness and clasped Gordon's mouth while a large, black clad arm wrapped itself around his throat. The assailant had a powerful grip. Gordon could neither scream and the amount of pressure on his neck was making him weak.

"I'm going to release you now," The assailant whispered into Gordon's ear "I just want to talk. Ok."

Gordon nodded and almost instantly found himself released from the vice-like grip. He quickly spun around to see his attacker…. and stepped back after doing so.

It was as black as midnight, whatever it was. It had pointed ears that rose from the sides of its head and had what would at first appear to be a pair of wings wrapped around its body but upon closer inspection Gordon saw that it was actually a cape that became scalloped near the bottom.

Despite his apparent awe and even fear of what stood before him Gordon managed to stutter out "Who are you?"

"A friend." Was the low, growl-like response that Gordon received for an answer.

Gordon looked closer at the "man" that stood before him and through the part in his cape saw the emblem of a bat upon his chest "It was you at the docks tonight wasn't it?," Gordon suddenly became all business, his fear being replaced with curiosity "The one who busted up the drug smuggling operation?"

"Yes."

Gordon couldn't believe this was happening, what he was talking to here in his living room.

"What do you want?"

The demonic figure was quiet for a moment. He seemed to be picking and choosing his words, trying to find the best way to express the feelings he held inside him.

"I want to save Gotham. I want to bring this city back from the edge and make it into the pinnacle of civilization that it was before. I want to cleanse it of corruption," The enigmatic figure stopped for a moment but then continued "And for that I need you Jim Gordon."

Gordon's jaw dropped. Now there was an answer he wasn't expecting. Hell, he half expected this thing to kill him.

"What are you saying?" Gordon asked casting a wary glance at Batman.

"I'm asking that you help me topple Montague's empire. He's ruined this city for too long. I won't tolerate him any longer."

Now that was an answer that definitely captivated Gordon's attention "How would you go about that?"

"I'm going to take him apart piece by piece. For that I need allies. I need you and Harvey Dent."

That was another attention grabber. Gordon knew Assistant District Attorney Harvey Dent by reputation. The man loathed organized crime to his core. If this guy was trying to pick allies Harvey would definitely be a good choice "What do you need us for?"

"The police force in Gotham is as corrupt as everything else. You are one of the few remaining good cops. Even the commissioner is corrupt. I pick the Montague organization apart, you make the arrests and Dent prosecutes. Its what you describe as a triumvirate."

Gordon was speechless. His own commissioner was corrupt? He couldn't believe it! However, the caped man in front of him did present an interesting idea. Maybe it could even succeed and reign in the lawless of Gotham. But there was still one major issue about this. The man in front of Gordon was a vigilante.

"I'm sorry but I can't do it." Gordon sounded as if he were releasing a breath he had been holding for a long time as he spoke "You're a vigilante and I can't endorse that."

Batman stood stone still for a moment and then took a step towards Gordon. He reached past his cape and to a belt around his waist where he opened up some kind of compartment and pulled out a small cell phone-like device. He then presented it to Gordon.

"It's a communicator. In case you change your mind and need to reach me." Batman turned and crossed the room over to the window that displayed the wall of the adjacent building and the fire escape of Gordon's apartment.

"Wait." Gordon's voice stopped Batman dead in his tracks.

Batman turned to Gordon who hadn't moved from his previous position "What's your name?" He asked neutrally.

"I'm Batman." And then he was through the window and disappeared into the night. Leaving Gordon alone in the room holding the small ovular communicator.

Gordon's car was speeding through the streets of Gotham City like a bat out of hell.

Gordon had woken up at a quarter to nine giving him fifteen minutes to get to work, which was on the other side of town. He had pulled on his clothes from the previous day and darted out of the apartment like a madman, pausing only to kiss his wife and son goodbye.

Thankfully there wasn't that much traffic so Gordon was able to make it to work with about 20 seconds to spare. As he dashed through the door Merkel, a fellow officer, told him that the commissioner wanted to see him in the planning room.

Gordon thanked Merkel for telling him and after depositing his belongings in his office, went straight to the planning room.

When Gordon walked in things were just starting, Commissioner Loeb, an aging, plump black man was standing behind the room's podium angrily brandishing a copy of the Gotham Globe. Gordon also noted that Branden, the head of SWAT, Flass and a few other cops he knew to be crooked were present at the meeting.

"Gordon" Loeb turned his scorn to the minutely late cop "So glad you could join us today."

"I'm sorry sir. I slept in and-

"I don't want to hear excuses Gordon! Just don't let it happen again!" Loeb menaced.

As Gordon sat down he managed to grumble out a yes sir.

"Good. Now on to more important things" Loeb turned his attention back to the front of the Gotham Globe he was clutching.

Gordon saw that the front-page headline was **GIANT BAT-MAN CRACKS DOWN ON DRUG TRAFFICKERS.**

"This is unacceptable!" Loeb gestured at a picture of Trevor Hawkins and his fellow thugs in the middle of the burning bat effigy.

"With all due respect sir," Gordon began "This giant bat did expose a group of mob, drug smugglers. Can he really be that bad."

The look Loeb shot Gordon would've made an erupting volcano freeze over "That doesn't matter Gordon! He's a vigilante and I won't tolerate vigilantes in my town Gordon!"

"Well you seem to tolerate everything else. Why not vigilantes too?" Gordon's retort caused the whole room to turn and face him; everyone was shocked at the statement including Gordon himself. Disrespecting the commissioner was never something Gordon had vocally done.

The Commissioner looked as if he were about to explode but suddenly his composure returned and his facial expression turned into one of neutrality.

"Your right Gordon," The entire room gawked, including Gordon "I can't really say anything about not tolerating vigilantes when we've got just about everything else running loose out there," Loeb paused and turning from Gordon he addressed the room at large "All of you be on your toes and just be on the lookout for this so called Bat-Man."

Loeb then gathered up some papers he had sitting on the podium and left to go to his office.

On Gordon's way out he received mixed comments. Some congratulated him on standing up to Loeb others criticized him for his disrespecting his boss. Gordon himself did feel remorse for the way he had talked to Loeb, so before he returned to his office Gordon was going to apologize.

As he approached the office Gordon saw that the door was open _"Perfect"_ he thought as he walked in "Commissioner I just want-

Gordon cut himself off upon seeing the commissioner talking to someone and not just any someone he was talking to Alex "Dead Eyes" Gibson, Marshall Montague's right hand man.

Quickly halting conversation with Gibson, Loeb turned agitatedly to Gordon "What is it Gordon?"

"I just wanted to apologize for smarting off to you in the planning room sir and now I'm sorry for walking in and disturbing you."

Loeb rolled his eyes "Its fine Gordon just get out."

Gordon nodded and turning on his heels quickly left the commissioners office.

"Who was that?" Gibson asked of Loeb as he watched Gordon walk off.

Loeb snapped his attention back over to Gibson "Him? That's just "goodie, goodie, Gordon" he's a real pain in the ass around here."

"Really?," Gibson returned his attention to Loeb "Maybe there is a way we can use "goodie, goodie Gordon"."

"You mean to take care of the Batman?"

This time Gibson rolled his eyes. Alex didn't really care for Loeb or find him that intelligent but he saw his use as one of his employers pawns "Yes Gillian. I just want you to have someone watch Gordon and have him report back to you on what he sees, and make sure its someone the "organization" can trust. After the spy informs you, you in turn, will inform me. Do you understand?"

"Yeah, yeah I got it."

"Lovely." Gibson commented dryly "Contact me as soon as anything turns up." Gibson, similarly to Gordon, turned to leave the room.

"Yeah, sure." Loeb muttered, rolling his eyes as soon as Gibson was out of sight. Loeb didn't especially care for Alex Gibson either.

Loeb waited a moment before he yelled out for Arnold Flass to join him in his office. He may as well go ahead and get started on what his "boss" wanted him to do.

Gordon had closed the blinds of his office window and was furiously pacing back and forth.

"I can't believe it! Batman was right; Loeb is working with the mob! Alex Gibson's presence here proved it. But now what do I do?"

Gordon stopped his pacing and gloomily sank into his office chair. In less than nine hours his entire world had been turned upside down.

Gordon pulled the Batman's smooth, black communicator out of his pocket and turned it over in his hands. Could he really trust the Batman? He'd trusted Commissioner Loeb who turned out to be just a flunky for the mob. What if this Batman was no different?

Gordon could feel his insides twisting as more and more questions burst forth in his mind. What if he was just being setup? What if somehow this was all a trick? No. Gordon pushed those things to the back of his mind. This is to elaborate to all be some kind of sick trick but still even if it wasn't could he accept the reality of it, make a decision and live with the consequences?

Gordon thought about it for what seemed like an eternity before he finally made his decision.

Gordon flipped open the cell phone-esque device and thumbed a green button inside it "Batman." Gordon said discretely into the communicator.

A brief moment of silence followed before the familiar, growling voice from the previous evening responded, "Yes."

"Meet me outside my apartment tonight after my shifts over." Gordon instructed.

"Understood." The voice growled before the connection disconnected and Gordon was once again alone with himself.

That was it. He'd made his decision. Now he'd have to live with it.

Gordon didn't see Batman when he first arrived home. Thinking maybe he'd been blown off Gordon started to open his front door when the rough growl that characterized Batman called out to him from a nearby patch of shadows.

"Didn't you have something to say to me."

Gordon nearly jumped out of his skin "Jesus Christ, you scared me."

"I tend to do that." Batman answered back.

Silence reigned for a moment before Gordon said what was on his mind "I accept your proposal. This "triumvirate" of yours."

Batman nodded "Now all we need is Dent and things can really get started."

"I don't think you'll have any trouble getting Harvey Dent to join the cause. He's been after the mob for years and in return they've kept him an _Assistant_ District Attorney. I'm sure he'd love to finally get a real swing at them." Gordon chuckled "He'll probably agree to join as soon as you say we're taking down the mob.

Silence.

Gordon turned to find himself alone on the porch of his apartment. He let out a sigh "I really hope he doesn't make a habit of this whole disappearing reappearing thing." He then opened his front door to what he hoped would be a relaxing evening with his family.

Unbeknownst to either Gordon or Batman their meeting had been watched.

Hiding discretely nearby Detective Arnold Flass had seen the entire thing.

"Score!" Flass exclaimed in a murmur while pumping his right arm "Loeb is gonna promote me for sure after I let him in on this!"

Flass took off for his car, parked several blocks away, "Promotion here I come!"

Marshall Montague reclined contentedly in his office chair while gazing out at the neon lights of the Gotham skyline. His habit of looking out over what he considered his "empire" was even more enjoyable at night when the entire city was outlined against the darkness, shining like a star in the sky.

"The arrangements have been made sir."

As he had done the previous day, Alex Gibson snapped his employer out of his reverie, causing him to turn his chair so that he was facing him "So all the arrangements have been made with Loeb?"

"Yes sir."

"What about Lynns? Did you contact him and specify the nature of the job."

"Yes sir. Although I must say I disapprove of the use of freaks like him." Montague couldn't make out the rest of what his second said but he did manage to pick out something about "deranged, pyro-maniacal mercenaries." Being a bad idea.

Montague chuckled "You worry too much Alex. Freaks like Garfield Lynns are easy to figure out and to anticipate. Lynns for example has two great joys. Setting things on fire and money. As long as we keep providing those things to him his loyalty is guaranteed.

"If you say so sir." Alex sighed, defeated.

Montague saw Alex really didn't like the idea of working with Lynns "Don't worry Alex. After tomorrow we'll never have to see Lynns again.

"I certainly hope so sir" Alex turned and left the room.

After Alex left Montague swiveled his chair back around so that it was facing Gotham's neon skyline. "After tomorrow night well never have to see two freaks again."

Author's Notes: Sorry its been so long since I updated. I've got a demanding schedule but I'll have the next one up a lot sooner and believe me that's when things will really start heating up! So any way until then!

Blacklight


	3. Blitzkrieg

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of his villains or supporting characters, I do however, own Marshall Montague

Disclaimer: I do not own Batman or any of his villains or supporting characters, however, I do own Marshall Montague, Alex Gibson and Kingsley Lamden. Anyway I just hope the story is enjoyable.

A cold crisp wind was blowing through Gotham. This was considered a relief by most Gothamites due to the scorching heat the summer had brought the city. It had also been forecasted to rain this evening, however, like so many other times it seemed the weatherman's forecast had been incorrect.

Rain or no rain, though Jim Gordon appreciated the breeze. The cool wind felt refreshing as it blew through his hair and into his lungs. It provided a cleansing sense of purification to Gordon.

"_If only the wind could provide the same feeling to the whole city."_ Gordon thought soberly.

Batman had contacted Gordon earlier on his communicator and asked that Gordon meet him at the abandoned Bluefield boarding houses. So Gordon made the excuses to his wife after dinner and left at 10:30 so as to allow himself plenty of time to get there.

Gordon now sat on the front stoop of one of the abandoned houses. It was 10:59. Gordon stared down at his watch and waited for the hour hand to perfectly align with the twelve.

"Hello Gordon."

Gordon sprung up and away from the stoop, scared shitless. As before his new vigilante ally had snuck up on him.

"Do you always have to do that?" Gordon clutched his chest as though Batman had caused him to have a heart attack.

"It creates a nice effect don't you think?" Batman leapt off of the balcony he had perched on above Gordon's stoop and landed perfectly in front of the still mildly shaken man.

"I suppose." Gordon began to regain his composure "But from now on save it for the crooks ok?"

Batman nodded "I'll do my best."

"Now what was this you had to tell me?" Gordon was now completely composed and got straight to the point, he didn't want this to take too long, because he wanted to get back to Barbara.

"You were right about Dent. He said yes before I practically even got the words out of my mouth."

"So our group is complete then?"

"Yes. Now we just have to start taking them apart piece by piece. I set them up, you make the arrests and Dent makes the convictions." Batman said, his facial expression beyond his mouth hidden beyond his mask.

"I still can't believe it" Gordon looked around at the surrounding buildings as if angels had just flown out of them playing _Free Bird_ with electric guitars "This is really happening. We are actually going to take on the mob."

"Just be ready for some fallout" Batman interjected suddenly "The mob won't go down without a fight and there will be repercussions. This is going to get worse before it gets better."

"True." The wind picked up again and blew Batman's cape and Gordon's overcoat as the pair looked at each other "Was their anything else?" Gordon broke the silence.

"Just be ready. I'll call you before I make a move so you can get prepared and I'll do the same with Dent. Until then just watch your back."

Batman pulled what looked like a grapple gun from the side of his belt and pointed it at a nearby building and was preparing to fire when someone yelled, "FREEZE!"

Both Batman and Gordon turned to find 24 heavily armed SWAT officers, running out of nearby allies, and buildings. All of them armed to the teeth with assault rifles, combat knives, grenades and pistols. Some, however, came equipped with assault shotguns, smgs, and one even sported a grenade launcher.

Gordon quickly turned to Batman "I didn't do this!"

"I know." Batman replied calmly "You were probably just followed." He then turned and hurled himself through the boarded up window he and Gordon had been conversing in front of."

"After him!" Gordon heard Branden's unmistakable voice call out to the rest of the team.

A burly SWAT officer charged the front door of the building like a rhino and knocked it inwards. His fellow SWAT members then followed him in after the Batman.

Branden went through last, pausing for a moment to speak to Gordon "Thanks Jim! Couldn't have found him without you!" He then gave a wicked grin and went in after his teammates grenade launcher in hand.

Gordon looked through the open door in horror _"What had he done!"_

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In all honesty, Batman had expected something like this would happen. That Montague would use his connections with Loeb to organize some kind of corrupted officer strike team to try and take him down.

Unbeknownst to either Montague or Loeb, however, was that Batman was on the cutting edge of modern defensive and offensive technology due to his connections at Wayne Enterprises. However, these were heavily armed men and women who had military grade armaments, so at most they were probably just about even. One thing that gave Batman the edge though, was that he had the ultimate weapon, fear. All the weapons in the world are worthless if your to scared to use them and Batman was determined to make some of these officers become so scared that they would never even think of speaking his name again, much less come after him. So pulling a few concussion and flash bang grenades from his belt he waited several floors above the SWAT team for all of them to enter the room. Then pulling the pins from the grenades and releasing them he made his move.

For Branden's SWAT team the world suddenly became a violent explosion of bright light and concussive force.

Batman's grenades did their job well. Many of the SWAT members were blown into adjacent walls or due to being blinded by the grenades panicked and fired upon several of their own teammates. Some members of Branden's team were even pushed into their fellow teammates by the grenades.

Branden, however, due to stopping to make a snide comment at Gordon was saved from the fury of Batman's assault. He alone stood tall amongst the confusion that had engulfed his teammates.

It did, on the other hand, distract him long enough for Batman to descend to the bottom floor with his grapple gun, incapacitate Branden with one of his wrecking ball punches and ascend with the unconscious SWAT commander back to the buildings upper floors.

Below, Branden's team was beginning to recover and assess the damage done to them. As soon as he recovered from being hurled into a wall by one of Batman's grenades, Branden's XO Kingsley "Boulder" Lamden took charge and asked for a status report.

"He's taken eight of us out of the fight sir." Officer Jeffrey Roads reported, "Six others have taken minor to medium damage and Lt. Branden is missing."

"Damn!" Lamden cursed, "Branden had the grenade launcher." The big man stood as still as statue for a moment, considering what to do. A minute later he decided "Roads, You and three others stay behind and carry the wounded outside and call for an ambulance." He then addressed the room out large "Okay boys lets go catch us a bat!"

Lamden's remark was met with shouts of enthusiasm and promises of revenge as the remaining SWAT members charged up the stairs. Kingsley, however, took his time trailing behind the others like the professional that he was. He had been caught unawares once, it would not happen again!

After safely securing Branden and disassembling all of his weapons, save for the grenade launcher, Batman returned his attention to what was left of the SWAT team.

Nine of the team had been incapacitated and four of them were helping move the wounded for the time being so that left 11 for Batman himself to deal with.

"_My odds just keep getting better and better."_ He mentally chuckled, _"Now to put a little fear of the bat into them!"_ Batman hefted his purloined grenade launcher and waited for the SWAT team to fall into his trap.

Officers West, Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney and Bale had thundered up the stairs ahead of the others. Each of them was eager to attain the glory that would inevitably come with the capturing or slaying of the Batman.

Unknown to them, however, was that instead of being the hunters like they thought they were they were actually the hunted.

As soon as all five of them had thundered up the stairs and come midway down the hall Batman catapulted a grenade from Branden's launcher so that it impacted seven feet in front of the officers, so they would be out of the kill radius. The grenade exploded upon impact with the floor and created just the effect Batman desired. The old, rotted wooden floorboards of the boarding house were ripped, torn and blown apart and the pressure of the detonation caused the floorboards the five front-running officers were on to give way as well.

Officers West, Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney and Bale dropped down to the second story, which broke their fall, temporarily, and then fell through the rotted boards of that floor back to the ground floor. They weren't dead…. but they wouldn't be getting back up either.

"_Five down, six to go."_ Batman was disassembling the grenade launcher on his way up to the fourth floor, throwing one piece here, another out of a window there. Just so he knew he couldn't wind up on the receiving end of one of those things.

Lamden saw the five men fall through the ceiling then the floor down to the ground floor _"This doesn't make any sense! He's just one…thing and we're a highly trained SWAT team that started out with twenty-four people! What in the hell is going on!"_

Lamden gave his team the order to halt. He had to think of a way to turn the tables on this thing. Normally in this situation the Batman would be the one disadvantaged because he was being pushed into a corner but he was using the different floors to set up ambushes for the team as they followed him up. He was trying to whittle them down the farther they went up!

"_Well two can play at this game,"_ Lamden gave a devious smirk and called the remaining six members of his team over "Okay gentlemen here's how we're going to do this."

They were taking longer to pursue him and that wasn't a good thing. Batman knew that he was slowly being boxed in the farther up he went but he had so far been using his advantage of a head start against them.

"_I guess we'll have to switch things up then."_

One of the SWAT team suddenly burst up the stairs. Assault rifle armed and ready to be fired.

Batman leapt from the shadows where he had been hidden and flung himself upon the officer, punching the man so hard in his face he flew back down the stairs. Batman followed. He was going to make sure this man got the right idea about why opposing the Batman was a very, very grave mistake.

He catapulted off the stairs, cutting a flip in the air and landed directly on top of the stunned officer.

Then he realized his mistake.

"_Damn."_ They had used this now disoriented man as a distraction to lure him out.

Out of the corner of his eye Batman saw a large African man near the back of the remaining SWAT members lob a grenade at him and his fallen comrade.

"_Double damn."_

Batman hefted the downed man and tried to quickly retreat back up the stairs. The grenade detonated. Batman and the SWAT member were hurled back up the stairs to the fourth floor where Batman flew through a rotted wall and into an abandoned room where he slammed into a surprisingly firm wall.

Batman could taste blood. That explosion had hit him hard and he was sure some shrapnel had penetrated his body armor somewhere but his adrenaline was pumping too hard for him to feel it if it was.

Walking back through the ruined wall and into the hall Batman saw that the SWAT member had landed roughly against an old radiator. His neck was twisted in such an awkward looking angle that he could only be dead.

"Using their own people as scapegoats." He growled, voice seething with contempt "I'll make the one who threw that grenade pay."

That was when he made mistake number two. He let his emotions distract him so much he didn't pay attention to his surroundings. The shotgun blast that caught him in the chest would always remind him to never make such a mistake again.

Lamden smiled a cruel and wicked smile as he watched the Batman's body fly down the hall landing just at the foot of the stairs that led to the fifth floor.

"That was for all the men you dropped back there, you sunnova bitch." Lamden coldly aimed at Batman again with his shotgun but Batman quickly hurled a batarang that struck Lamden in his right eye.

Lamden cried out in pain and in anger. The intensity of the wound causing him to discard his weapon and clutch at the side of his face. Lamden didn't know it yet but he would never see out of that eye again.

Using Lamden as a distraction Batman bolted up the stairs, the gunfire of the now ten other SWAT members hot on his heels.

Now Batman knew he was injured. Not only could he see his crimson blood draining out of cracks and exposures in his damaged body armor but he could also feel it running down his chest. He had to end this now. After all there was only one floor left after this one, so pulling out and arming his remaining concussion and flash bang grenades Batman waited until he heard the sound of footsteps and tossed them down the stairs at the six men pursuing him.

Two seconds later he was rewarded with the familiar sound of wild screams and panicked gunfire.

Batman took a moment to brace himself against the wall. He took in several ragged and heavy breaths before removing several miniaturized smoke grenades from his right hip compartment. He then hurled them down the stairs where they would land and quickly disperse a bank of smoke.

Taking one final moment to collect himself Batman calmly began to walk back down the stairs to the fourth floor. Careful not to give a sign to the four remaining SWAT members he was coming even as he stepped over the incapacitated bodies of their comrades.

Batman worked fast. His very life depended on it.

He hurled three batarangs at one man's neck causing him to fall to the ground clutching at his windpipe. He would live. Although the force of having three incredibly fast batarangs hurled at his windpipe and the immense pain it caused would quickly cause him to lose consciousness.

Batman slammed his fist into the underside of the next man's jaw and slammed two mores heads together. All three lost consciousness. The final man was kicked through a wall that was similarly rotted like the one he had been blown through earlier. The difference between the SWAT member and Batman, however, was that Batman got up. The SWAT member didn't.

Batman suddenly halted his violent conquest of the fourth floor. The smoke from his grenades was beginning to thin out and disappear but he could already tell that he alone remained standing. At least that's what he had thought.

Kingsley Lamden slammed into him with all the force of a boulder that had been dropped out of a plane and had reached terminal velocity.

Kingsley made sure that he made Batman hit the wall hard. Even for all of his body armor, Batman thought Kingsley's tackle had hurt him more than the grenade did.

Lamden was at least six feet five inches tall and looked to be incredibly strong. He easily flipped Batman over so that they were face to face and so that Batman could see the large six-inch blade hovering near his face.

"I'm going to cut your mask off piece by piece and after I see whose underneath I'm gonna cut that face off too. Piece by-

Kingsley never finished his declaration of intent. This was mostly due to the fact that he had suddenly without warning been engulfed in flames. Two more seconds passed and his entire body had been turned into a torch. Even more unfortunate for Lamden was that his now fire consumed body quickly ate through the floorboards he was standing and caused him to fall to the ground floor in a similar manner to officers West, Keaton, Kilmer, Clooney and Bale…. only more fire was involved and it was a lot more painful.

Standing behind where Lamden had been crouched their was now a tall, muscular man with spiky blonde hair, clad in black combat boots, red and black fatigues, a black muscle shirt and brandishing some kind of rifle attached to a metal cylinder that was strapped to his back.

"The names Lynns" A cocky smile spread across his face "I'm gonna be your executioner tonight."

Batman suddenly lashed out with all the force of a cornered and wounded animal. Both of his legs coiling back and then springing forward with such force that when they connected with Lynns' chest he was knocked ten feet down the hall.

Returning to his feet Batman armed himself with three batarangs he removed from his left forearm compartment "Who are you?" He roared the question at Lynns causing him to cringe slightly before he rose back to his feet.

"Name's Garfield Lynns, pyrotechnic mercenary extraordinaire, and I've been hired to take you out." A small spat of flame shot from the tip of Lynns' rifle probably as an intimidation tactic.

"_Wonder who could've hired him?"_ Batman commented dryly to himself "I have no quarrel with you Lynns just back off and I won't have to hurt you."

Lynns was suddenly gripped by an uncontrollable fit of laughter "You hurt me? If it weren't for me that big smoldering fellow downstairs would've killed you three minutes ago. What chance do you really think you would stand against a pro merc like me? Hell it looks like you've already been through the ringer four or five times. This'll be easier than roasting a crippled tortoise!"

Lynns' rifle was suddenly in the air and belching a stream of flame directly at Batman.

Ducking a split second before the flames shot through where he was a moment before, Batman charged underneath the flames and came up only when he felt his left fist slam into Lynns' gut. He then rose up slightly so he could mutter darkly in Lynns' ear "Never underestimate someone backed into a corner. They just may surprise you."

The momentum of Batman's punch propelled Lynns halfway up the stairs to the fifth floor. Batman quickly followed. This time on the other hand, Lynns was ready.

Unclipping an incendiary grenade from a belt around his waist he waited until Batman was close and then used the same kicking maneuver he had used on Lynns himself only moments ago, knocking Batman back down onto the fourth floor. Lynns then armed the grenade and tossed it down after Batman.

Batman however, had been assaulted with enough grenades already that evening to be ready for it. After hurling one of the batarangs he was still holding in his right hand at the oncoming grenade, Batman jumped into cover behind an adjacent wall. A half a second later batarang struck grenade, the impact causing the grenade to prematurely detonate spewing flame all over the stairs and the fourth floor.

Batman came out of his cover to see the flames from Lynns' grenade quickly eating up the old and dry timbers of the building and Lynns himself retreating up to the fifth floor.

"Oh no you don't." Batman hurled himself up the stairs after Lynns whom he saw starting up the stairs to the sixth floor.

Seeing Batman was behind him Lynns tossed two more grenades. Batman stopped dead in his tracks and pulled his cape over himself. A moment later he could feel waves of heat wash over him as the grenades spewed more fire into the old boarding house.

After checking that he himself had not caught fire Batman continued his pursuit of Lynns, running up to the sixth floor, which Lynns had also set ablaze "He must have gone up to the roof." In his zeal to capture Lynns however, Batman failed to see the cunning pair of blue eyes gazing at him intently as he ran past the room their owner was hiding in.

Taking aim with his rifle Lynns dispensed a stream of flame, which struck Batman in his back igniting his cape. Batman immediately dropped to the ground and began rolling trying to extinguish the rapidly growing flames.

Stepping out of the vacant room Lynns watched as Batman rolled around on the floor. Occasionally he would come close to extinguishing the flames so Lynns would casually re-ignite them with his rifle. The pain Batman was going through seemed to contaminate Lynns' face with a cruel smile, his malicious flames causing his eyes to dance with a sick sense of delight. This is what freaks like Garfield Lynns lived for. The money was nice but it was really all about satisfying your cravings and Lynns' craving was watching his targets contort and writhe in agony as his flames ate them away to their bones. Once the painful process of being incinerated alive started, no one ever really got back up. Except when the coroner came to try and figure out who it was and had the body moved to their forensics lab.

So he was very much surprised when the Batman suddenly stood up and after shooting him a grim smile, slammed his fist into Lynns' face and causing him to stumble backwards and bang his head against a wall.

Ignoring the flames still covering 40 of his body Batman strode over to examine Lynns. The combined forces of Batman's fist and Lynns' head hitting the wall had caused him to lose consciousness.

Seeing that he had earned a brief respite Batman completed a whole stop, drop and roll maneuver finally extinguishing the fires that had been plaguing him. After double-checking that he was still not on fire somewhere Batman bent down and after unlatching Lynns' rifle and backpack hefted the unconscious man over his shoulder.

"I'll leave you for Gordon to deal with."

Gordon watched as the gruesome and charred form of Kingsley Lamden was placed on a stretcher and carried into an awaiting ambulance.

"_What the hell is going on in there!?"_ Gordon stared at the old building as more acrid black smoke began to secrete from it and hungry flames tried to devour it.

As Gordon watched the flames slowly consume the building something on the roof caught his eye. The Batman stood atop the burning building observing the firefighting crews and EMTs below. His cape, or what was left of it, looked as if it had been disintegrated, large portions of his suit looked to be melted and he seemed to have more than his fair share of gunshot damage as well, but he was still standing.

"_He really is something else."_ Gordon felt something wet land on the tip of his nose. He looked up farther to see slate gray clouds gathering in mass over Gotham. More rain began to fall until it ultimately became a downpour.

Gordon watched while Batman bent down and secured a cord he had removed from his belt to something Gordon couldn't see. He spent a few more minutes doing this and then much to Gordon's shock and horror dropped a body off the top of the roof! The body twisted and turned in the air until the rope finally went taught near the bottom floor where he could be cut down.

Gordon looked up at Batman in shock but the look the Batman shot him explained everything he couldn't verbally. It was a look that said, "You will understand later." Gordon nodded in acknowledgement.

Batman then turned and walked away from the edge of the building where he disappeared from view.

"Well at least I saw him leave that time." Gordon muttered to himself, before he turned his attention back to the rain and to the building.

By now the flames that had been consuming the building were completely extinguished. The great torrent from above doing in minutes what it would have taken the firefighters a half an hour to do. Off to the side Gordon could hear the firefighters going back in to look for the rest of the missing SWAT members. They were unable to do this earlier due to the fourth floor up being sealed off by flames they alone could not combat.

As the team entered the building once more Gordon found himself once again gazing skyward at the falling rain _"Its as if God is trying to wash away all the cities sins. He's just wasting his time though" _Gordon concluded as he turned and started toward his car _"There's nothing here but devils." _Gordon entered his old, beat-up Buick and revved the engine. He was about to return home for the evening when one final thought sprang to mind. One that even garnered a grim smile out of the normally rigid Gordon "The irony of it is that the one who most appears to be a demon on the outside is actually the angel who's come to redeem this hell."

Authors Notes: I told you the next one would be up quicker. Anyway chapter four won't have as much action but their will be some highlights. So as always until then!

Blacklight


End file.
